Memories of a Forgotten Past: Part 2

Sharp pains erupted in Lacia’s side as she woke with a start. For some reason, though, the pain felt eerily familiar, but she didn’t fully understand why yet. Either way, this was one case of deja vu she’d rather have left in the past, whenever it was from. From what she could tell, it wasn’t the arrow wound, though that still ached a bit from time to time, too. No, these were much sharper pains, and they came in waves. She stumbled to her feet, clutching her side as she slowly raised her head off the tile floor.

Did Aria actually manage to get her to a hospital? She shook her head. “No… This definitely isn’t a hospital,” she said, rubbing her cheek. “But why does this place feel so… familiar?” She looked around the room. “Oh. That’s why,” she said disdainfully, noticing the room’s décor.

Pink and red party streamers lined the ceiling, draped across the room like vines in a jungle. White tablecloths were neatly placed across each table, perfectly ordained with gleaming silverware. In the center of the room was a large folding table adorned with even more decorations, doused in glitter for effect; it was covered from end to end with gifts, and they were all addressed to her.

She surmised she was probably dreaming, yet she was completely lucid. An uncomfortable feeling overran her body, knots forming in her stomach, and every step she took she felt like she was wading through knee-deep water.

“Lacia…” A hushed voice echoed from somewhere behind her. She spun around in her position on the floor, exacerbating the pain in her side, but at least she seemed to be alone. Still, random, whisper-y voices didn’t exactly calm her nerves. Picking herself up off the floor, she winced. The pain refused to abate.

“Dammit,” she muttered, “How did I even get here? The same red dress, the same party room, the same pains… What is going on here?” She stumbled into a nearby table, steadying herself as she regained her footing. “Normally, I don’t mind heels,” she grumbled, “but when I can already barely walk, they’re really not the most useful things. Stiletto pumps, no less…”

Monotonous laughter echoed through the empty room, bouncing off the walls, before dissipating into the air with the steady hum of the heat pump. She made another full circle, this time holding her breath as she tried to pinpoint the source. Unfortunately, she was only left more confused than when she woke up, the phantom laughter unidentifiable.

She bit her lip as she turned to face the gifts again, neatly wrapped in various shades of pink, purple, and red wrapping paper. Bows adorned the top of each, completing the theme. She grabbed the nearest one, carefully unwrapping it as anxiety crept into her nerves; she was growing paranoid, afraid maybe she wasn’t as alone as she thought. Printed on the underside of the lid read a simple message. Still, it sent shivers down her spine:

“Happy 20th birthday, Lacia! As your parents, we are ecstatic you’ve grown into the young woman you have, but it’s because you’ve reached the conclusion of your teenage years now that we’ve decided it’s finally time to tell you.”

“Twenty? And tell me what, exactly? Weren’t we just here celebrating nineteen…?” Her voice was filled with puzzlement as she continued reading.

“This was the only way we could reach you, so please try to bear the pain as you read this. Sadly, by the time you do read this, we will no longer be here. Even so, please read carefully. All will be explained in due time—”

“First, you were taken from us when you were still very young. You were special—gifted. We spent many years looking for you to no avail—not even the police or government intelligence agencies had any leads, that is, until we learned of your enrollment at Miruna High School—a school for gifted children. By this time, you’d been gone for nearly a decade, and we’d all but given up hope of seeing our baby girl again.”

Tears welled in the corners of Lacia’s eyes as she read on.

“The school was supposed to help you develop the wonderful gift you had received. Instead, they chose to suppress it, hoping to use its tremendous power for maleficent purposes. While we realize this is a lot to take in, we can, at the very least, explain what happened next. Your wonderful mom and dad have friends in high places, and when we learned of your whereabouts, we asked for them to watch over you from afar. If anyone got too close, the school would be alerted, though, so we had to keep things rather secretive.”

“That doesn’t seem like such a big deal,” Lacia said, taking a seat at the table, crossing her legs for comfort, silken black pantyhose giving them a lustrous shine. “Still, this really is a lot to take in…”

“That all being said, you’re probably wondering how we know all of this and what the implications would be if someone from outside the school got too close to you. Allow us to explain: The same friends we mentioned earlier had eyes inside the school, someone on the inside whose identity even we weren’t aware of. However, there was an “incident” once where a student from one of the town’s public institutions did get too close. They were subsequently retrieved and promptly had their memories wiped, or so we presume based upon the information we were given. So, what was it about you that was so important the school had to erase all memory of you? Unfortunately, we don’t have that answer, but it seems likely the school didn’t want its secrets exposed.”

“Hmm… While it’s not what I expected, it’s not that crazy, either,” Lacia said. Her voice nearly caught in her throat, emotions getting the better of her. “Still, you pose a great question. What is so special about me?” She uncrossed her legs.

“The school was headed by the Miruna family. Yes, they named it after themselves—they always did have a bit of an ego. Anyways, by now, we imagine you’ve met their little, well, not so much anymore, girl—Aria Miruna. She was especially gifted, but she loathed the world after she lost her parents in a freak car accident. To keep you safe at the time, you were given false memories of your life up to the point of your enrollment at the school. If you’re reading this, then Aria has yet to tell you the truth—not this one in particular, but she can explain in more detail later—but had she told you then, it would have upended everything.”

A splitting headache began to form over Lacia’s left eye, as she rubbed her temples. “Has my entire life been a lie? And what of Aria, now? What does all of this mean?” She shook her head. “Just a little more…”

“This is why you were sent to Miruna High in the first place. Once you grew a little older, you were told your “parents” were away on business trips, correct? So, the school sent letters, impersonating us, coercing you little by little as you played right into their hand. Of course, this was no fault of your own, and once you became a fifth year, you were given the option to live at home instead of the dorms. You obliged and continued school as normal from then on.”

“Finally, you must be wondering where Mana comes into play. She was enrolled in your same school—those memories are genuine. However, she never asked about your past because she was led to believe the same thing as you, though she was always highly observant—we expected her to get into a little trouble from time to time as we’re sure you’ve experienced. Keep her close, Lacia, and cherish those who are closest to you. We’re sorry this is all we can say for now.

Happy birthday, sweetheart.

Love, Mom & Dad~”

Lacia set the lid of the gift box aside; complete bewilderment bowled over her in series: Her parents, Aria, Mana… Was she really made to forget it all? She peered inside the box, hoping for any additional letters or clues, but all that remained was a small bracelet, neatly wrapped in white tissue paper; it was encrusted with various purple gemstones, but she couldn’t tell if they crystals or maybe even diamonds; they didn’t bear much resemblance to either stone, but they seemed to give off a strange sort of energy.

Slipping the bracelet on, the hint of fogginess in her mind faded away as her headache subsided. While her side still ached something terrible, she could at least bear the brunt of it. She was surprised, though. She never would have thought the strange energy the bracelet gave off was one of medicinal abilities.

“I still don’t know how I feel about all of this,” she said, staring at the bracelet, “but I have a big role to play in everything, apparently. Unfortunately, I’m totally clueless what that role even is. As Aria would say, I’m just a girl.”

Deciding to return her focus to the situation at hand, she got up and walked out of the party room, heels clicking against the bare floor as she sauntered over to a window-lined wall—there was something she still wanted to confirm.

She caught her reflection in the mirror-like windows. While she hadn’t expected to find herself trapped inside of some augmented reality-like dream, she couldn’t help but admire the mirrored emulation:

The dress gave her bust a perfect lift, falling just above her knees, tightened in the back with a corset-like drawstring ribbon; her pantyhose glinted in the light, reflecting the fluorescent light from the ceiling tiles above—the sleek black garment perfectly complimenting her dress. She danced around in her heels for a moment, light dancing alongside her in the black, faux leather shoe; a buckle and pair of straps wound their way around her lower leg, ensuring a snug fit with the additional four inches in height.

What surprised her most, however, was her hair; it had grown past the midsection of her back, a beautiful platinum-blonde color. It was beautifully braided around the circumference of her head, tied off in the back to reveal the different layers, resembling that of a waterfall of glossy, luscious locks.

Even her makeup looked like it had been professionally done: burgundy lip matte, mascara, dusky eyeshadow, and an even-toned foundation with a little bronzer and blush around the upper cheekbones. If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought she was being coronated as the princess of some mystical kingdom.

“Even I’d fall for myself,” she said, wowed. “I look incredible, not to mention the little bracelet adding to my entourage now.”

She cupped her hands against the window to see out, careful not to smear her makeup on the glass if she got too close; snow gathered on the ground outside, silently blanketing everything in a soft shade of white.

While she’d initially recognized the party room, everything else remained equally as foreign. She squinted, hoping to find something she recognized, until she stopped on a small figure standing in the middle of the road. Whoever it was, they were too far to make out anything more than a general shape, but the voice in the back of her mind told her they were staring back.

“Now I have to know who that is, so, if this is a dream, I should be able to just make things at will, right?” she pondered aloud, closing her eyes as she imagined a pair of binoculars in her hands. While they didn’t appear in her hands, a pair had managed to drape themselves around her neck—close enough. “Why can’t I do this when I’m not having strange dreams? Imagine all of the clothes I could buy if I could just imagine money at-will!”

Lifting the binoculars, she aimed them toward the road, where the figure had been. Snow-covered rooftops and dark windows dotted the white landscape, but the figure was gone. She shifted her sightline toward the illuminated welcome sign where she rediscovered the same strange figure again—it had moved.

The darkness of the night was deep, swallowing everything around it in an inky black—all except the weird person, or thing, that had juxtaposed itself against the backdrop of the sign. She watched as they lifted their arm straight into the air, above their head. Slowly, they propelled their arm forward until they were pointing right at her. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

“What do you want?” she whispered softly. “So creepy…”

The lights on the sign began to flicker as they seemed to rearrange themselves in real-time. Hoping it was just an optical illusion, she centered the binoculars on the sign, taking in the full scope of the letters before a word seemed to manifest itself in the snow beneath it.

She aimed the binoculars lower, looking for the mysterious figure from before, but it was gone; the road was empty, and snow had begun to cover the surface. Reluctantly, she focused the binoculars on the sign again, reading the full message, starting with the word in the snow:

“Your,” she read, “time is up.” She bit her lip. “Ohh… How I don’t like the sound of that…”

A sharp whisper echoed through the hallway, causing Lacia to drop the binoculars with a loud clutter, just missing her foot. She spun around on her heels, hair whipping her in the face as she came face to face with the same mysterious figure from the road, cloaked in shadows.

An icy hand gripped Lacia’s arm, unwilling to ease its hold as shadows crawled up her shoulder, turning her arm black. She struggled to free herself, crumpling to the floor as her strength was sapped. There was no way to loosen the shadowy figure’s grip. With each passing second, she grew weaker and weaker, clambering for release.

“Time is up… Your time is up,” it hissed in her ears.

The floor morphed into an icy sea of black, without form and void of light. Shadowy tendrils wrapped themselves around Lacia’s arms and legs, locking her in place. The restraints seemed to grow tighter with the figure’s steady encroachment, squeezing her limbs like some kind of toy. Panic set in as her mind filled with terror; her eyes darted back and forth, looking for a way to free herself. Her heart slammed against her ribcage, prepared to force its own way out if necessary; she curled her fingers, nails digging into the soft flesh of her palms as she tensed her muscles, squirming like a trapped animal.

Reluctant at first, she decided to test a theory. There was no harm in a last-resort option—there was nowhere else for her to go, anyways. If death was inevitable, she had nothing else left to lose, but if her theory was right, it could be the out she was looking for.

“Okay… Think about this for a second,” she monologued. “If I can feel the tendrils tighten, that should mean there’s some level of physicality to them, right? So, there’s only one way to find out…”

She took a deep breath, slowly exhaling the sudden influx of oxygen into her lungs. If she could just relax her muscles enough, there was a chance she could slip through the bindings, but with the prominence of death and the stranglehold fear had on her mind, she could hardly relax. Even so, she had to try. With one final deep breath and subsequent exhalation, her body went limp, muscles fully relaxed. To her surprise, the ferocious grip of the tendrils loosened, giving her a chance to implement the second stage of her plan.

“Here goes nothing, then.”

She flailed about, unleashing one, final, adrenaline-fueled, thrashing, catching the shadow-clad figure off guard; she slammed her body into the ground beneath her, using the extra momentum like slack in a rope. She swung her body from side to side. She wasn’t free yet, but by using the same kinetic energy she’d created to swing, she was able to use the same energy to arc her body up and down. By using the newly created slack, she came down hard on her arms and legs, smashing the tendrils that bound her into the floor. The shadowy figure bellowed in pain, unleashing an ominous, guttural roar, but the pain was worth the gain—the tendrils retreated as she managed to pull herself off the floor.

“It worked! I’m free!”

Her heart pounded against her ribs, doped up with a concoction of adrenaline, terror, and hope—hope that this was all just a horrible nightmare. Regardless of what happened next, her feet were on the floor again, heels clicking against the tile, sprinting as fast as her legs could carry her. There wasn’t a moment to waste—distancing herself from the shadowy figure was priority number one.

Whatever the thing was, it seemed to lag behind, still in pursuit, but she could at least stay ahead of it while she concocted a plan, or lack thereof. Truthfully, she had no idea how to fight something as terrifying as a shadow figure. However, she’d inflicted pain earlier—it wasn’t invulnerable—it had to have a weakness somewhere. Right?

Unfortunately, she still had no idea where she was or why she was there to begin with, concluding that either she’d finally learned how to lucid dream or had stumbled upon some kind of doorway to an alternate dimension. At this point, she supposed it didn’t really matter, deciding that her next best option was to find an exit out of the strange building, but the only one she’d seen thus far was back where she started.

“Yeah, there’s no way in hell I’m going back there.”

After several more minutes, she finally came to a stairwell, marble steps winding around to the upper floors. There was no sense in trying to lap the shadow figure, and she certainly wasn’t about to wait for it to round the corner which meant her only option was up. As much as she dreaded the possibility of being cornered, she had to explore the upper floors. For all she knew, there was a fire escape on the floor above her she could use as a means of escape.

“No time like the present,” she mumbled.

She climbed the stairs, heels echoing through the open marble expanse as each click rose higher into the lofty ceiling. Reaching the second-floor landing, she realized the building was far grander than she’d previously thought. Even so, the second floor didn’t offer much: empty offices, dark windows, and barren, grey-toned walls hugged by similarly-empty glass display cases. Golden tapestries hung from the ceiling, embroidered in black trim, but that’s all they were—tapestries devoid of any significance or identity.

“No logos or any kind of branding at all?” she said as she walked beneath one. “Even the nametag slots on the office doors are empty. This is so creepy.” She shuddered. “Even these walls are totally barren… No posters, fliers—nothing…”

Failing to find an exit, she climbed several more flights of stairs, each floor as empty as the last. Exhausted, she decided to stop one floor from the top, slightly more decorated. Dim, round lights in the ceiling cast an eerie glow on the tan-colored walls, bathing the hall in lukewarm, yellow light. Office nameplates remained nameless, but a series of fliers had been taped to the doors in hopes of capturing fresh attention, but as she moved closer, she realized they were nothing more than templates; they were also blank, minus the colorful borders on the paper.

She sighed, exhaustion finally catching up with her as she climbed the final few steps to the second-to-last floor before stopping to take a break. Considering the pace of the shadow figure’s pursuit after her narrow escape, she figured she was at least several floors higher, but how much time did that buy her?

“It won’t matter either way if I can’t find a way out of this god-forsaken building,” she grumbled.

The fatigue consumed her like a fire: sore calf muscles, stiff arms, and another skull-splitting headache. While she couldn’t blame her body for its weary state, she wished the adrenaline rush hadn’t left her so weak; she wouldn’t be able to fend off another assault. Her whole body felt like one giant deadweight as she pressed her back against the wall, sliding to the floor. The chill from the dark, marble floors only added to her predicament: she was freezing.

“I’m sure if I can think up a pair of binoculars, I can at least think of something warmer to wear,” she said through chattering teeth. “Something warmer, please,” she prayed.

To her dismay, nothing happened. What made clothes any different than a tangible item like binoculars? And why was she able to produce a pair so easily? She wanted to cry—it wasn’t fair. Not only did she have to learn her parents weren’t who she thought they were, she had just been attacked by some other-worldly monster.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve all of this,” she said, holding back tears. “I can barely move and I’m so cold.” Despite the glossy makeup, faint shades of blue began to appear on her lips. “Maybe there’s something around here somewhere? A coat closet maybe? Although, I guess it doesn’t really matter what it is,” she emphasized. “I just need somewhere or something warm or I might actually freeze to death.”

Begrudgingly, she pulled herself up, using a nearby doorknob for support as she leaned against the wall for another minute, trying to catch her breath. She moved slowly, her muscles growing ever-more-stiff by the second. The energy in the building seemed to shift, almost like a forewarning. An electric charge lingered in the air, pecking at her skin with tiny zaps.

“If God is about to smite me, I hope he does it quickly,” she half-joked. “The tension in the air right now is insane. I feel like I’m breathing anxiety instead of oxygen.” She continued her perilous venture down the hall, one arm against the wall for support as rough, plaster-like crumbles added scratches to her hand.

Something in her peripheral vision caught her attention. Looking over, she noticed a large, circular bruise had formed where she’d been held. Stopping to examine her other arm, she found similar markings. The yellowish bruises were unsightly; she couldn’t see through her tights, but she assumed there were likely similar bruises up and down her legs.

“I could just, like, apply some pressure and see if it hurts, but that doesn’t sound like fun. I already hurt too much. On the bright side,” she said, running her fingers over a metallic nameplate, “I think I just found a coat closet. The only good thing to happen tonight…”

Rustling the brass knob, the door swung open with a rush of pent-up aromas: leather, velvet, fur. She was ecstatic—finally, warm clothes. She pushed her way past rack-fulls of coats, jackets, and even the occasional fleece-lined scarf, but everything was either too big or too small. While she didn’t necessarily mind grabbing a larger coat, mobility was highly important; the ability to evade the shadow figure had to factor into her choice of clothing. Anything too tight-fitting would be restrictive, but anything too big could make for sloppy and predictable movements.

“These look nice, but I just can’t take the risk,” she sighed, rummaging through even more coats. “I don’t need something this large weighing me down, and this is cute but way too small.” She continued digging. “Oh, this will work!” A white fur coat hung at the back of the closet as she removed it from its hanger—a perfect fit. “This dress doesn’t really help a whole lot, but the coat should keep me at least a little warmer,” she said, exiting the closet, “but where did all of this stuff come from? And whose is it?”

The door closed with a soft click. She put her hands on her hips, planning out her next move; she was still too weak to fight back, and an exit remained elusive. What else could she do? She pinched herself, hoping maybe she was having an excruciatingly bad nightmare, yet nothing changed. She stood in the same red dress and newfound white coat, same empty corridor, and her body still ached.

“I don’t know what I was expecting.” She dropped her arms to her side. “Ok. With this many floors, there’s bound to be roof-access somewhere, right? It looks like my only way out of this icy hell is an emergency exit or something. Maybe… Maybe I could lap that thing now,” she gasped. “If it’s checking every single floor, I’m bound to pass it, and then I can take the exit on the first floor!” An intensifying cold filled the air. “Still, I wish I was better-dressed for this.”

She started towards the stairwell, nervous, but this was her only chance. The longer she waited, the faster her window of opportunity would close, and this being the second floor from the top, she was like a rat trapped in a cage. She’d never forgive herself if she sabotaged her own escape out of hesitation.

“One foot in front of the other,” she said. “You can do it, Lacia. Don’t waste the opportunity you have to slip out of here.” Unsteady footsteps echoed through the hall, growing steadier and more rhythmic by the second until, finally, she broke into a sprint. “This is it! I don’t see the shadow figure, so I should be able to slip right past and—”

Her sprint slowed as the faint caricature of a man danced on the far walls of the stairwell, cloaked in shimmering shadows. She froze, knowing she’d just run out of time. Too weak to fight, and no exits to be found, existential dread filled her veins like a disease, the final glimmer of hope wilting like a flower.

Without thinking, she bolted up the final flight of stairs. Despite the short climb, she was completely out of breath as her lungs screamed at her to stop—even her legs seemed to threaten to give out at any moment. She scanned the hallway, eyes skimming every last placard, poster, and sign for anything that indicated a fire escape, other stairs, or roof access—anything. She just needed something.

Without warning, the ceiling lights burst, scattering broken glass across the floor as it bounced off her body. She was thankful for quick reflexes, but there were no other sources of light; she’d have to rely on the mental image she’d created of the building’s floorplan.

Thankfully, each subsequent floor was laid out the same as the last, though wandering around in the dark while being chased by some shadow-figure-monster-thing was not her idea of fun. The hall was dark, the only light coming from the floor below as it spilled out into the stairwell.

“I know where I am as long as I keep a hand on the railing. These floors are all the same,” she said shakily. “There has to be some kind of way out. It’s the top floor. It’s mandated in the building codes as long as wherever this place is, is still in Alura!”

At the far end of the hall, a red sign glinted in the reflection of a glass door; the light from the stairwell must have hopped from door to door, reflecting it onto a large, metal access. Lacia’s heart skipped a beat as she read the sign: Roof Access. Authorized Personnel Only.

“I have to be the luckiest girl alive right now. There’s literally no way!”

Her heels struck the tile floor as she sprinted towards the access door, spirits dropping as she tried the door handle. It wouldn’t budge at all; the handle was locked in the upright position, taunting her as she pounded her fists against the cold steel.

“Fuck! This is it…” She sank to her knees, hair falling past her face as she pressed her hands to the floor. “I’m actually going to die here…”

She turned her back to the door, knees pressed together. Her face was a cross between despair and subliminal fear. She struggled against the door, back arching higher and higher as the shadows snaked across the floor, seeking their prey from earlier that night, but they didn’t seem to be aware of her presence yet. Even so, it didn’t matter. Fear was a powerful weapon, and it controlled every racing thought that entered her mind. The shadows continued to grow longer, darker. The first glimpses of her pursuer arrived at the top of the stairs, beady, red eyes cutting through the dark.

The tension in her body eased as she sat against the door, legs sprawled out on the cold tile. Every ounce of resistance fled from her muscles, the shadow figure’s eyes gorging on the fear that poured from her body like sweat. Her life flashed before her eyes as seconds became minutes; breaths grew into staggered sobs; warm tears rolled down her cheeks, crashing into the floor.

“It’s ok,” she sobbed. “I’ll be okay… I should have known twenty years was twenty years too long.” She laughed. “They always said I had to confront my demons. Is this what that’s like?”

Unexpectedly, the handle began to jiggle. Startled, Lacia half jumped, half crawled, out of the way. A faint grunt came from behind the door before it blew off its hinges, metal rungs scattering down a set of concrete steps and onto the tile. She watched as it skidded down the hall where it crashed into the back wall.